The Voices In My Head
by Phoenix Moon 13
Summary: Lilah, Wesley and Fred confront the voices in their heads.
1. Watch Me Fall

_**The Voices In My Head  
><strong>_**Chapter One: Watch Me Fall**

Author's Note: These three ficlets were originally three individual ones, but they do work together so I've grouped them under one fic. They don't have to be read in order, you don't even have to read one to understand another. They're only linked by the central relationships of Wes/Lilah and Wes/Fred and the use of the voice in the head.

* * *

><p>Lilah Morgan had learnt to hate silences. In the silence, without the bustle inside her head over contracts, partners, death, apocalypse and Angel, other things bled through.<p>

_Other _thing _actually. Person, to be specific._

She sighed. Somewhere along the line, she had cultivated an inner voice. In her line of work, she had little time - or need - for friends. But occasionally, she needed someone to talk to. It didn't matter how much of her soul she had sold for her cushy office, designer clothes and enviable apartment, she was still human. So she would talk to herself. Her head voice could offer some pretty good pieces of advice. She ignored the fact that most of the time her strange conversations concerned Wesley.

_Oh no, don't think about that, Lilah. It's enough you think about Wesley all the time, without talking about him in your head._

It was probably due to this hatred of silences that she hadn't told the woman now sitting opposite her to get lost. They were both nursing coffees inside the a barricaded diner they were sheltering in. The doors and windows were nailed shut, people hid inside and took advantage of the coffee machine and week old bagels before moving on. The woman across the table seemed to have made it her mission to get Lilah to open up.

"A man," the woman nodded. "And you thought it was just sex?"

"Started out that way," Lilah sighed.

"Doesn't it always?" the woman fell silent and watched Lilah. Lilah didn't look at her; she stared into her coffee and thought about him.

She thought about him way too much, which was strange, because she didn't do relationships. They never worked, there was too much emotion involved and in her line of work, the only feeling that worked for you was the one of self-preservation. Anything else was weakness and Lilah hated weakness. Right now, she couldn't afford weakness; she couldn't afford to let anything override her self-preservation. She was the sole survivor of the Wolfram and Hart massacre and she intended to keep it that way.

_And who do you have to thank for that? Wesley. All those people he could have tried to save and he only wanted to save you. And you want to know what that means. But who says it has to mean anything?_

"What are you running from?" the woman asked.

"Who says I'm running?" Lilah snapped.

"Lucky guess. So… What are you running from?"

Lilah leaned back in her chair and studied her companion before shrugging a little.

"Haven't you had your eyes open? Everyone's running. Rain of fire, neverending night, monsters… Who isn't running?"

"The people who are fighting it," the woman looked up at Lilah and cupped her mug in gloved hands. "I'm Gwen. You got a name?"

"Lilah."

_He told you change your name. Are you ever gonna learn to listen to him? He's smarter than you will ever be._

"Maybe it would help if you had a Clyde."

"What?"

"You'd be Bonnie. Maybe it would be better if you had a Clyde."

_Or a Wesley. You know it would be fun with him. Think of those days you would have to spend in motel rooms. Think of the nights you would have had to spend travelling. That's about as close as you'd ever get to a normal relationship. But here you are, all on your lonesome. You must be doing something wrong, Lilah, otherwise you wouldn't be here, you'd be all loved up with a certain devilishly handsome man._

She almost laughed at that. She had always thought love was twee and sweet, and running in slow motion through fields of daffodils with sappy smiles. The very thought was enough to make her cringe. Lilah was a "heinous bitch" - according to Cordelia Chase anyway. Lilah did sex, she didn't do love. It was as simple as that.

_Simple? I would have said it stopped being simple a long time ago. I'd say it stopped being simple when you started to feel -_

She didn't want to think about that. She had too much to deal with these days, what with the fact that she would never get her things back, the wound that wouldn't heal and the Beast.

Lilah eyed the young woman opposite her. She seemed the fighting type. But Lilah had been the fighting type once. Now it was all she could do to actually get up to find that stupid book. Maybe this girl had the fight knocked out of her. Or maybe she just didn't see the point anymore. The world was ending - for real this time. Why waste your time fighting the inevitable?

_Oh for God's sake! Will you stop feeling sorry for yourself?_ _What happened to you? You're like a simpering, love-struck teenager. Love is for suckers, remember? Suckers who are too weak to grab life by the balls and make it dance for them. What, so you're a sucker now?_

Maybe she was. She couldn't seem to care anymore. If she was, she knew why. Originally, all that she and Wes had was just great sex and the opportunity to torment each other. Then it got…

_Complicated? Or maybe you were right; maybe it did just get simple._

"You've already got a Clyde, haven't you?" Gwen asked.

"It's just sex. _Was_ just sex."

"So when did things change?"

"I don't know… Actually, yeah I do… And you know the dumb thing? It was just one night. One night out of a hundred nights. So I stayed the night. Big deal. It shouldn't have changed anything."

_But it did. You never knew it was possible to laugh in bed, did you? You never thought you could talk after sex, or just lie there and not say a word. It was all new to you, wasn't it? And it terrified you. Know why?_

_Because you _liked_ it._

"Why did it then?"

Lilah hadn't been listening. The implications behind her thoughts had frozen her. What if she had liked it? She didn't, did she?

_Why keep staying if you didn't like it?_

"Hey? You in there? I said, why did it change things?"

The gloved ran waved in front of her face and Lilah focused back on her.

"I don't know. But it did. He saved my life. Big massacre where I used to work. He got me out."

"Sounds like a good guy."

"Exactly. I don't do good guys."

No, Lilah Morgan _definitely_ didn't do good guys. You don't love someone who is your exact opposite. You don't love someone who hates everything you stand for and vice versa. You don't love when you're a Wolfram and Hart attorney. Just look at Lindsey. Look where love got him. She had survived well enough without love for the past few years and she didn't need it now.

"You do now," Gwen pointed out with a slight smirk.

_She's right. A good guy gave you what no bad boy ever had._

He had told her to leave town, she remembered scornfully, but there was no way she was going to do that. This was _her_ town and she was going to get her life back.

And she didn't need Wesley Wyndam-fucking-Pryce for that.

_Oh please. You can't say you didn't like being with him, you know. You loved it. You never realised he was so strong, did you? You didn't give him a second thought and now he's every thought. He's just a man, Lilah. At least that's what you keep telling yourself. So why do you love him?_

That was uncharted territory. She had come close to using the "L" word in regard to Wes before. But she had explained that away as fear. She had never seriously considered it. The very idea was ridiculous.

"Do you think you can fuck someone for six months and never care about them?" Lilah asked Gwen suddenly.

"I dunno," Gwen shrugged. "Never exactly had a boyfriend. But… I'd guess no. 'Cause there's gotta be some reason you keep going back."

_See? Even she can see it. Why the hell can't you? You lost everything, Lilah. You're not you anymore. Why not just admit it? Give it up. You know you loved him._

"So what if I did?"

"Huh?" Gwen frowned at her.

"So what if I did care? I'll never see him again, what does it matter?"

"It doesn't. He'll probably die, if he hasn't already."

Lilah swallowed hard. Why did that make her go cold? Why did it make her skin prickle, the hairs on the back on her neck stand on end? Why did it make her heart clench?

"You love him, don't you?"

For a moment, Lilah thought the words had been inside her head, but then she saw Gwen's sympathetic face.

"What makes you think that?" she snapped.

"I dunno. Maybe 'cause you seem so hung up on making me believe you don't give a damn. Maybe 'cause you're trying so hard to pretend you're still the bitch you obviously used to be. Maybe 'cause you looked so miserable when I said he's probably dead. Just a lucky guess."

_Pretty accurate guess, wouldn't you say, Lilah?_

"I don't do love."

"And I don't usually do running, but check it out."

"He's… He's a good guy! I can't love a good guy! And you know what… He's stubborn and… and he's reckless."

"Sounds like just your type."

"But that's just it, he isn't my type. And I'm only looking for the stupid book so I can give it to him 'cause then I can get my life back."

"And it's got nothing to do with you wanting to see him again."

"Exactly."

They fell silent and stared at the table.

_When did it get to this? When did you end up in a diner waiting for some guy with a book, talking to a girl you've never met? And don't say it was when the Beast killed everyone in Wolfram and Hart, we both know it goes back farther than that._

And so what if it did? After all, love was just a feeling, a sickness you could get over.

Gwen stood up, smoothed her top and looked at Lilah for a moment before saying anything.

"Good luck with the running," she said. "Use the tunnels. They should be safe now the surface is the devil's playground."

"Thanks for the advice. Have fun with your running."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be back as soon as the lights come back on. Be careful, it's not so safe out there, all the things that go bump in the night have come out to play."

"Don't I know it."

"Well, it's been fun watching you fall."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Gwen didn't answer; she just walked away, around the diner's counter and down into the basement.

_It's not like you needed her to explain what she meant. You _know _what she meant. She watched you fall in love with him. She watched you stop fighting it and finally give in. Now you've just got to admit it._

"Lilah?"

Lilah looked up into the nervous face of the guy she had tracked down for her book.

"Sit down," she said. "Got the book?"

"Here," he pulled it out of his jacket and pushed it across the table toward her. In reply, she thrust some notes at him.

She stood slowly and suddenly; she was Lilah Morgan again. She had her fight back. She was going to survive this. She was the Bitch Queen from Hell and she was going to make sure she got her life back.

She slipped around the counter and into the open basement Gwen had left through and her guy had entered through. She found the opening into the tunnels and slipped inside. One hand gripped her revolver and the other hugged the large book to her stomach, protecting her aching wound.

The bitch was back.

_Lilah, Lilah, Lilah. When are you going to realise that you're never going to be that bitch again? Not while you love him… It doesn't stop being real just 'cause you got your groove back._

_It just grows. You'll keep on falling, Lilah. Who knows when you'll stop?_


	2. It's Just A Figure Of Speech

_**The Voices In My Head  
><strong>_**Chapter Two: It's Just A Figure Of Speech**

He had noticed her watching him. Had noticed how she would look away whenever he turned to look at her. He had a seeking suspicion that he knew what this was all about.

_"He's damn near perfect… Except the part about banging Lilah for the past six months."_

Looking at her now, he wondered if she really was as intelligent as he thought. There were so many things she knew about physics and maths and science, but she really knew nothing about the real world.

_Well, she did spend a long time in another dimension; you can hardly blame her. _

She really didn't seem to understand that love was not always the sweet stuff of movies. Not that he was in love with Lilah. Oh no, of course he wasn't. And that gutted feeling he got whenever he remembered she was dead had nothing to do with any feeling he had for her. She didn't love him either. When he saved her from the Wolfram and Hart building, she wasn't going to say she loved him, because she couldn't. She wasn't able to feel. She had used him as much as he had used her. And he didn't want to make the Beast hurt for killing her, and when he cried after he cut off her head, it was just the stress. She wasn't his girlfriend, or a loved one. She couldn't feel.

And neither could he.

But there was always that nasty little voice in his head that whispered to him whenever he thought those kinds of things.

_She would look at you sometimes though, wouldn't she, Wesley? Look at you in a way no else ever did. Not Virginia and definitely not Fred._

He hated that voice. He sighed heavily, rubbed his eyes and returned to his books. It was late and they were both still working. She because she saw it as the only way to save the world. He for the same reason, but also because he saw it as the only way to save his sanity. Whenever he slept, he had nightmares about decapitating Lilah, about standing there watching as Angelus drained her.

_But you have dreams about her too, don't you? You dream about a normal life. Only you can't have a normal life with a corpse. Especially after you cut her head off._

_But still you dream, Wesley, still you dream._

"Is there something you wanted, Fred?" Wesley asked mildly, not looking up from his book, but he saw her jump and look round at him.

"What? No! I don't want anything."

"Are you sure?" he looked up. "Only you keep looking at me and if there's something you wanted to ask me, please feel free."

"I - I just was wonderin'…"

"About what?" she hesitated and his face softened slightly toward her. "You can ask me, Fred."

"Lilah," she blurted out.

"Ah," was all he said, and bowed over his book again. She fidgeted slightly, wary of his reaction. "What was it you wanted to know, exactly?"

Stunned, she stared at him as she gathered her thoughts.

"You - you don't mind?"

"Of course not," he replied. "What was it you wanted to know?"

"I wondered… I wondered… how? How did you two…?"

"She visited me," he leaned back in his chair, his eyes distant. "I was very much alone, of course. She visited. She gave me Dante's _Inferno_, she was making a point. Did you know, Fred, that the worst place in Hell is reserved for traitors?"

"N-no, I didn't know…"

"Well, Lilah kindly pointed that out to me. And the rest, as they say, is history."

His mild attitude, the slightly jocular tone was entirely false and sounded so, even to his own ears. But that was the only way he could force this out and he had to, if only to stop her looking at him as though she pitied him. He couldn't bear her pity. If she pitied him, it was as though he had lost someone close, someone he loved. He hadn't really. She was a lawyer, an evil lawyer. He really had not feelings either way.

_Really, Wesley? Then why do you force yourself to be cheerful? You know you want nothing more than to curl into a ball and cry. What does that mean, eh?_

"Do you miss her?"

She had obviously gained in confidence and she asked her question as she sat down, pulling her glasses off as she did so.

The question threw him and he didn't know how to answer it. He wasn't sure he was ready to answer that question to himself, let alone her.

_But you'll have to one day and it's not as though you don't already know the answer, is it?_

"Would it matter if I did?" he asked instead.

"Yeah," she answered.

"Why?"

"'Cause if you miss her, you musta cared about her and that makes all the difference."

"I don't see how."

"She musta been a decent person under all the… evil lawyer-ness. Otherwise why else would you do it?"

"I…" he glanced down, rubbed one hand over his face before the honest answer he had been dreading slipped out of his mouth. "I was lonely."

"Lonely?" she repeated.

It was as though the thought had not occurred to her.

_Of course it hadn't, she was too wrapped up in her own world. A world where you were the traitor, where you didn't matter._

Rage boiled in the pit of his stomach and he desperately wanted to get out of the office. It was too closed in, too confrontational. He couldn't bear it.

"Yes, Fred," he snapped, standing up. "I was lonely. My throat had been cut; my friends had made no attempt to understand my actions and abandoned me. Lilah - despite her faults - was all I had."

With that, he strode out, leaving her sitting in his old office, staring at where he had been seated.

* * *

><p>"Wesley?" Fred ventured.<p>

She had spent quarter of an hour searching for him and found him in the room where he had decapitated Lilah. He was staring out of the window and showed no sign of noticing her.

"Wesley, I didn't mean -"

"She rarely called me by my name, you know. When she did it was mostly 'Wes'. I never really realised that until now. Huh. Funny the things that stick in your mind."

"I never realised how lonely you were… If I'd known, I would've come to visit you."

_Oh, the stupid girl, how could she not have known? Of course she knew - she just didn't care. In fact, she probably thought you deserved it._

"Would you?" he turned and smiled at her. "I wonder if things would have been different if you had?"

"I guess we'll never know."

"Yes, I suppose you're right."

"You did care about her, didn't you, Wes?"

He turned around and sank into a chair, a cloud of dust masking his face for a moment. When it cleared, she saw he had what she privately called his "Thinking Face."

"Sit down, Fred," he said softly.

She sat slowly down in a chair opposite him, "Wesley…?"

"I believe it's time I talked about this… Maybe you'll understand."

"I'll try… So, you did care about her?"

"No," he answered. "Not in the beginning. Though, it was I who first called what we had a 'relationship'. We had a bet on, you see, as to who would be first. I should have known I would lose, after all, Lilah was very well versed in thinking before she spoke. There's a signed dollar bill in my wallet. I can't seem to bring myself to throw it away. I suppose that means I cared about her."

_Or was it because of what that dollar symbolises? You remember how she looked at you when she asked you to sign it. You remember why she wanted it signed, don't you? "Proof of now. Of this." Oh, of course you cared about her._

"How could you? She was your enemy."

_Sleeping with the enemy, Wesley. How Lilah would have laughed at that._

"Not really. She was Angel's enemy. I was really nothing to her; I was just one way of getting to Angel. That always puzzled me. When she came to me this summer, I was not a way of getting to Angel. Yet she came anyway."

"Maybe she cared about you."

"She couldn't," he said sharply. "She couldn't feel anything. She… She just couldn't…. At least that's what I keep telling myself."

"But do you believe it?"

_You don't, do you? Of course you don't. You cared about her and that eats away at you, you can't bear to admit it to yourself. But you did, didn't you, Wes?_

"Do you remember when the Beast entered Wolfram and Hart? I got her out and for a moment, I thought she was going to say she loved me. Do you know, I was terrified? If she had said it, what then? I don't know what I would have done."

"But if she'd said it, would you have believed her?"

"I honestly don't know. Fred, love isn't always a good thing. Feelings like that can be destructive, they don't always make a person happy. Sometimes they can make a person hate themselves and what they have become. I hope you never have to experience that."

"I'm sorry you had to," she lowered her gaze and twisted her fingers in her lap. "Can I ask…? Do you - do you miss her?"

"When I remember she's gone," he replied. "Other times, I forget."

_Because you want to, because you can't bring yourself to remember she's gone. If you do, what then? If it hurts, what will you do? How will you explain it?_

"When you do remember though, what then?"

"Then?" he asked. "I don't know. I don't let myself get that close."

"Why not?"

"Because," he looked at her, heartbroken sincerity etched into his face. "Because it scares me. If I feel something now, that means I felt something then, _still_ feel something."

"Would that be so bad?"

"Yes… Because in a way she _was_ my enemy. A person who worked for the very same people I fought against. She believed in things and I believed in their opposite. Who am I if I feel something for someone like that?"

_Not the man you want to be. Not the man you thought you were or could be._

"Human," Fred shrugged. "You can't stop what you feel, you just feel it. Don't you sometimes come close to feeling something when you think about her? Before you close yourself off, I mean."

"Sometimes."

"And?"

"And… It hurts," the words seemed to squeeze out of him. "It hurts like you wouldn't believe. And that's only when I come close, when I near the edge but don't fall off it. What Lilah and I had was twisted and dark… And part of me liked it… The rest of me wanted to save her. I saw something in her that I thought I could save, redeem maybe. I miss her… Not because of the sex, because of her. The way she dressed. The way she smiled, you know, I never realised a woman's smile could be so dangerous. Her hair smelt of roses. I was surprised, such a soft scent for such a hard woman. Oh, and her bloody arrogance, she was always so sure of herself, even when she screwed up. She always seemed to be in control, even when she wasn't. I couldn't understand how anyone could be like that. She intrigued me."

"So you did love her?" Fred asked, watching as he got slowly out of his chair and headed toward the door to return to work.

"Love, Fred," Wesley replied. "Is just a figure of speech."

_But that doesn't make it any the less real, does it, Wesley, old boy?_


	3. Beyond Pretence

_**The Voices In My Head  
><strong>_**Chapter Three: Beyond Pretence**

Fred paused outside the door and bit her lip. She had left Pylea far behind her. Every bit of it. All except a tiny voice she forced to the back of her mind whenever she could. She had cultivated the voice as company. Sometimes she thought she owed it her sanity. Alone in that cave, it was all she had and shutting it up was something she had yet to achieve. And it was this same inner voice that urged her to this door.

_You know you won't be able to concentrate until you've seen him,_ it told her. _You want to know he's all right._

She did. She was worried about him.

They had been working at Wolfram and Hart for a few weeks now and things were far better now than they had been over the past turbulent few months. All except one thing.

Cordelia was dead. Had died a few days after their arrival at Wolfram and Hart. Despite Lilah's furtive promises that they would do everything for her, they couldn't save her. She faded away. Angel was with her when it happened, griping her hand as she stopped breathing.

Fred had told Wesley.

He had stared at her. She watched in horror as his eyes filled up, his fingers clenching on the arms of his chair. He stood shakily, leaning on his desk, breathing heavily. Trembling fingers wrapped around a paperweight and she watched as he threw it. The colourful globe shattering against the far wall as he swept everything from his desk. She approached him slowly as he picked up a picture from the desk. Peering over his shoulder, she saw it was one from his wallet. Himself with Cordelia and Angel.

"Wesley?" she had ventured as he turned and sank against the desk, eyes brimming with tears as his knuckles whitened.

"No," he had breathed, throwing the picture across the room as tears broke freely.

Not knowing what else to do, she reached blindly for him. He hugged her tightly around the waist, sobbing into her neck as she soothed his back and hair, crying herself.

Cordelia's death had been the finale in a spectacular show of misery and angst.

_A summer you want to forget. A summer that felt empty. And you couldn't think why, could you? Why it would feel so empty? But you know now of course. That summer, Wes wasn't around._

No, Wes hadn't been around. He and Angel had fallen out spectacularly. Darla had returned and Wes had urged Angel to dust her, before she dusted him and Angel had refused. It was because of this argument - an argument had forced Fred under a desk for two hours - that Wes had left, barely seen the entire summer. Fred still shuddered when she remembered the things Angel had said in the heat of the moment, about Wes and about his past. She tried to forget the comments Angel had yelled about Wes's father.

Wes did return though, handing Angel a briefcase on Cordelia's disappearance. Angel had dusted Darla a little while after Wes's departure, as she had attacked Fred, leaving him with no choice. And Angel had apologised, Wes too and everything seemed fine. It wasn't until shortly after Cordelia's return, when Angel had to become Angelus to beat the Beast, that Fred found out about Lilah. But she understood that. She had talked to Wesley about the evening after Willow's departure. Everything seemed to be getting better.

Then everything went to hell.

Cordelia somehow got pregnant, some kind of weird Immaculate Conception. Then there had been that whole Jasmine thing that really screwed up everything. Ending that was what earned them Wolfram and Hart. But now that everything was over, things were starting to return to normal. She and Gunn were returning to the way they had been before they started going out and Wes and Angel leaned on each other. They felt Cordy's loss the most, she had been the one that declared them family.

Fred had barely seen Wes since the day she told him Cordy had gone. She wondered how he was doing, she had attempted to broach the subject when she met him in the elevator, but he had cleverly side stepped it, getting out a floor early to avoid her.

_But you worry about him,_ the voice said. _Lately, you just can't seem to stop thinking about him. What's this all about, Fred?_

She frowned, ignoring the voice and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

She almost ran away at the sound of that voice. So empty, sad and quiet, lacking the spirit she remembered. But she pushed against the door, plastering a smile on her face.

Wes looked up, blinked once, then bowed his head over his work again.

"What can I do for you, Fred?" he asked.

"Oh… nothing," she grinned. "I just thought I'd… drop by."

Her grin faded as his steady stare didn't waver. There was something challenging about it, cold and closed off. It sent a shiver down her spine.

_But in a good way. E__very time he looks at you, it's like there's no one else around. You and your decisions, Fred. Pick a guy and stick to him, will ya?_

"Anything in particular on your mind?" Wes asked, his gaze still on her as he leaned back in his chair.

"Should there be?" she answered, taking a seat on the other side of the desk.

"I rarely see any of you unless you have something to ask."

There was something mournful in his voice, something that made Fred feel tiny.

_Oh, but he's right. As usual. When did you ever see him without wanting to know something? And most of the time, you could have worked out the answer for yourself. You just wanted to see him. And now he thinks you don't care. This _really _isn't going well, is it?_

"We've been busy," Fred told him.

"Yes," he replied thoughtfully, eyes leaving hers to fix on the papers on her desk. "Though you'd think we'd be finished by now. An entire month of working and we're still busy," he looked up at Fred. "Or are we?"

"W-what do you mean?" Fred asked.

"Merely a question," he shrugged. "I thought we may as well have a worthwhile conversation. I haven't had one in a while. So, what do you think of our pretence of working?"

"I don't know…" she tailed off, searching for a better answer.

_Because you want to keep him talking and you have to have a better answer than that, because he's always thought you knew so much. Who would have thought he could be so wrong._

She gulped hard, ignoring the voice.

"Well… Maybe it's because we don't know what to say."

"Really?" he raised an eyebrow, leaning forward. "Go on."

"I mean, we're here. Working at Wolfram and Hart. We're not sure what that makes us, if what we think we are matches up to what the others think. I guess it's the fear of not knowing that's keeping us apart."

"Us," he mused. "I was even starting to wonder if there _was_ an 'us' anymore."

"Of course there is!" she cried out and he smiled.

_Why is he smiling? Maybe because you've stopped being the little girl he knew from Pylea, you've finally started actually _talking_. Maybe he missed you. Which is stupid because you've never earned it. But he loved you anyway._

"It's good to see you adamant again," he said softly. "Angel, Gunn, even me, we all seem so…"

"Grey?"

"Yes," he nodded. "Grey. Never to be true White Hats again."

"But we still fight for the good," Fred protested.

"You're right. But we're backed by evil."

"Wesley?"

"Yes?"

"I did come here to ask you something…"

"Oh."

_Stupid girl! Now look what you've done. Made him feel like a colleague again. And he's so much more than that. He's family, a friend. Someone you care about._

"I meant…" Fred frowned. "I wanted to ask you a question that only you could answer: What happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Will things ever be the same again? Will we ever be those people in that hotel again? Will we ever… Will we ever be family again? You don't understand, Wes. I got so scared when Cordy… She was the one who held us all together. The glue, the heart. And then she was gone and I couldn't keep a hold on anything and I got so scared.,,"

His eyes lowered at the mention of Cordelia's name and his answer was delayed by a few seconds as he breathed in and out slowly. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes.

"Why?"

_God, if only he wouldn't look at you like that. Grab a hold of your thoughts, girl, that's the kinda look that sends all rational thought out the window._

"Because… Because when I got back from Pylea, having you guys was what made things easier. And then when we needed each other most, we were all on our own. I know you and Angel talked, but it's not the same, is it?"

"No," he agreed. "No, it's most definitely not the same."

His head slumped forward and she watched him take a deep breath and slump into himself as he let it go.

_Oh no. He looks so lost. And you're just sitting there. Move, damnit! Do what you've come here to do! Don't act like you don't know what I mean. Tell him._

"I miss you, Wes," she whispered.

He looked up, mouth twitching as he looked almost… horror-struck?

_Great job, Fred. Now you've scared the hell outta him. Sit down!_

She dropped into her seat with a thump and squeezed the arms to prevent herself trying to leave again.

_Talk to him, Fred. Make him believe you because he sure as hell doesn't believe you at the moment._

"Wes, I -"

"Please. Don't say anything," he cut in quietly.

"Wes…"

"I don't - Fred, I don't think my feelings for you are any secret, are they?"

"No," she answered her, blushing and lowering her eyes.

"So I think it's best for you to leave now, before I do something bloody stupid."

Fred blinked, swallowed her question and nodded.

_So you're just going to give up. No one else is going to make the first move, you need to do something to make everything right again. You wanted to get the gang back together again for Cordy. And you wanted to start with him and you know why._

_So don't you _dare _leave now._

"Like what?" she asked.

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I think we both know what," he stood up and she did the same. "I'll see you, Fred."

"Yeah. Yeah, you too."

She nodded, turned, smacked into the chair and laughed off his "Are you all right?" as she left.

She clicked the door shut behind her and closed her eyes, leaning against the door with a soft thump.

_Well, that was a shining example of how to screw up. You had your chance all you had to do was say you _wanted _him to something bloody stupid. All you had to do was tell him you've never wanted anything more._

_And now you've made it worse. Now whenever you see him, he'll avoid you more than he did before. He'll never look you in the eye, he'll never be able to talk about anything but business. There'll always be a wall between you now and it was just starting to come down, but you've missed your chance._

_Pretence is all you'll ever get from him now, Fred, and - what are you doing?_

She didn't know.

All she knew was that she didn't want to listen to that stupid little voice telling her that she had screwed up, done everything the wrong way. The worse part would be in knowing the damned voice was right, so it would never shut up. It was like Cordelia, it liked to make sure everyone understood it had been right.

But Fred just wanted to shut it up.

She opened the door and saw Wes leaning his head back, hands pressed over his eyes. She slammed the door shut without meaning to, but he didn't jump, just sat up slowly and stared at her.

"Something wrong?" he asked coolly.

_I told you it would be like this_, _cold and professional. Just remember that you've done this._

"I wanted answers," Fred stated. "I came here looking for answers. Only I forget to ask the questions. So I couldn't get the answers and I really needed them because -"

"Fred," Wes cut in, standing up.

She took a deep breath.

"Just… listen, please. Just answer these questions for me. Do you miss the old days?"

"Yes," he answered honestly. "Yes, I do."

"Me too. Do you want to do something about getting them back?"

"I wouldn't know how. I wouldn't know where to start."

"That's not the point. Do you want to do something about getting them back?"

"Yes."

"Well, same here. So why don't we do it together? Two people are stronger than one. You and me could pull this thing back from the brink. Otherwise, what's the point in fighting?"

"None," he replied.

"So we have to _do_ something."

"All right," he smiled. "Anymore questions?"

"Yes," she paused, wondering if what she wanted to say was the best thing to say. But she said it anyway. "Did you miss me? Like I missed you?"

He blinked, swallowed hard and dropped his gaze. Once more, she saw him take in a deep breath and let it go.

"I did," he said in a low voice.

"Oh."

_"Oh"? That's it? Couldn't you have come up without something better than "oh"?_

"'Oh' indeed."

"I've…" she nibbled her lip. "I've got one more question."

"Fire away," he breathed, shrugging. He had already given so much away, he might as well hand her the reins.

"Do you… Do you love me?" she whispered.

He blinked, rubbed his eyes and reached for the glasses on his desk. He pushed them on slowly and stared at her.

"A rather silly question," he replied briskly. "As you have already admitted that you're aware of my feelings for you. To make it that bit clearer, yes, I do. Though why you wanted to hear that, I've no idea. I can't imagine why -"

"I needed to make sure," she cut in. "I don't like making admissions until I know how the other person feels."

His mouth swung open, then snapped shut as he drew himself up straighter.

"What are you saying?" he asked.

"What do you _think_ I'm saying, Wesley? Do I really have to spell this out?" she smiled, almost a goofy grin as she lifted her hands up in question.

"I think I'd like you to," he replied uneasily.

_Do it. Tell him. You'll never get another chance. Tell him how you feel. How you miss him more than you thought possible, how you want nothing more than to taste him once more. Just tell him, Fred, the worst he can do is break your heart and you've already done that to him and he dealt with it._

"I love you," she whispered. "I… love you. I don't know how else to say it."

"I think you made it clear enough," he answered.

"So what are you going to do about it?" she asked.

"I'm leaning toward kissing you," he smiled.

She walked around the desk and smiled shyly up at him. Slowly, she took hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him close. Their lips were millimetres apart when she whispered:

"Lean a little bit more."

"My pleasure," he breathed in reply as he pressed his lips to hers.

After only a second's hesitation, her hand let go of his shirt and she curled her fingers into his hair while the other hand gripped his shoulder. He pulled away and gazed down at her, his face suddenly tight with confusion.

_You nearly had it there, girl. For a minute I thought you'd pull it back. But I guess you never really had him to begin with._

* * *

><p><strong><em>The End.<em>**


End file.
